


Movie with Mila

by wheel_pen



Series: Venkii [10]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-21
Updated: 2013-04-21
Packaged: 2017-12-09 02:44:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/769049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trip takes Mila to Movie Night. Why does he always think other people will appreciate scary movies the way he does?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Movie with Mila

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. The Venkii are humans who left Earth long ago, and have a few extra enhancements by now. Mila is a young Venkii woman who has joined the crew of the Enterprise, in Engineering. She can communicate with the ship in a special way.
> 
> 2\. The bad words are censored. That’s just how I do things.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this AU. I own nothing and appreciate the chance to play in this universe.

            Trip grinned as he stuffed a handful of popcorn into his mouth and glanced at Mila. Her gaze was intently focused on the movie flickering across the screen at one end of the Mess Hall and she hadn't seemed to notice that he'd missed a good portion of the movie for watching her. Er, watching her _reaction_ to it. The movie was an old favorite of his, after all, and he'd already seen it a number of times. Watching someone new watch a movie you loved, though, was always entertaining, and it often helped him to see parts of the story in a new light.

            Trip didn't know why it had taken him so long to invite Mila to Movie Night. Well, to be honest, at first he was glad to be rid of her at the end of the shift and wouldn't have dreamed of voluntarily suggesting they spend more time in the same room. But once he'd (mostly) gotten over that and put the suggestion to her, he'd discovered he enjoyed it, more even than showing a classic movie to T'Pol or Dr. Phlox. Somehow her questions were more fun to answer, he supposed. Even if they ended up in an argument later. _Especially_ if they ended up in an argument later.

            Tonight was a new kind of movie, at least for her. So far she'd been engrossed in the story, though he could practically _see_ her ticking up inconsistencies and improbabilities to point out to him later. Well, he had his retort all ready—although a realistic and tightly-plotted storyline were certainly appreciated in a horror movie, they were definitely _not_ the main reason certain people watched them. At least, not _Trip_.

            The ominous music suddenly poured from the speakers, a sinister tune that made most of the audience members, including Mila, begin to tense up. Trip smirked in anticipation and made sure his right hand was free. The combination of the throb of the soundtrack and the menacing squeaks of the staircase under the main character's feet as she ascended to the attic were winding the audience up tighter than a coiled spring. There was a pause as the woman contemplated a curtain draped across part of the attic. Trip could practically _hear_ everyone in the Mess Hall thinking the same thing: _Don't open it, don't open it!_ Mila's hand moved from her lap, seemingly of its own accord, and gripped Trip's tightly, almost painfully. His grin widened, although he struggled to control it. The woman onscreen ripped away the curtain and there was a collective intake of breath from the audience, which was released with a few nervous giggles when they saw there was nothing behind it. The movie character sighed too and shook her head at her own foolishness—and then was promptly attacked from the side by a hideous, ghoulish creature.

            Mila screamed, launched the popcorn bucket from her lap into the air, and dove into Trip, burying her face against his chest as horrible crunching and shrieking sounds emanated from the speakers. Fortunately no one noticed, because half the audience had done the same thing with the person sitting next to _them_. He immediately put his arms around her and tried not to chuckle into her ear, even though his grin was big enough to split his face. _This_ was why a fella brought a girl to a horror movie. And it was well worth the h—l he'd catch from Chef when he saw all the popcorn all over the floor.

            "I hate you," Mila declared unceremoniously the moment the movie ended. Trip had learned to take such statements with a grain of salt. Especially as her hand had not detached from his and showed no intention of doing so, even when they exited the Mess Hall and began to stroll down the half-deserted corridors.

            "I don't understand how the old farmer _knew_ they were at the house," she complained, only halfway through her list of comments about the movie.

            Trip rolled his eyes. "That one kid had sent the message out with Morse code, remember," he pointed out. "With the lightshade in that room upstairs?"

            Mila wasn't buying it. "What are the chances that a farmer would know Morse code well enough to interpret that message?" she contradicted. "Also, add into that the odds that he was looking in the proper direction at the proper time, and—it just doesn't make sense."

            "Would you stop goin' after the plotholes?" Trip insisted, as he usually did. "The point of the movie was to scare ya silly, and I think it did just that."

            "I was _surprised_ , at the time," Mila allowed, and Trip smirked. "The movie was very effective at building suspense through skillful use of sound effects and music. _However_ , that does not mean it has left me with some lingering sense of dread."

            "Oh really," Trip commented, disbelieving. "Well why don't you open the door to your quarters, then?" They had stopped in front of them a few seconds earlier.

            "Fine. I will," Mila told him tartly, and the doors slid apart without her having to touch the keypad.

            "Show off," he muttered, not unkindly. However, she did not actually take a step _into_ the darkened room but rather stood on the threshold, her hand still clasped with Trip's. The streaking starlight from the window cast odd shadows over the bed and desk, shadows that wavered and flickered just enough to make you wonder whether you were really seeing movement or not. Leaning close to her ear, Trip hummed a snatch of the movie's soundtrack and Mila jumped.

            She glared at him, trying to appear thoroughly unimpressed, and flicked the lights on with a thought. _Every_ light in the cabin, Trip noted with amusement. Mila strode the center of the room, the engineer dragged along with her, and regarded him haughtily. "I don't know what you're trying to prove," she told him. "As you can clearly see, there is nothing to be afraid of here. It's just my cabin."

            "Riiiight," Trip agreed. He glanced at the closed bathroom door. "Well," he added casually, starting to disentangle his fingers from hers, although inside he was reluctant to do so, "guess you'll want to wash up and get to bed, then, so I'll just be..." He saw her glance apprehensively at the bathroom and knew the exact scene in the movie she was thinking of. The bathroom door slid open—which would in itself have been creepy, if Trip hadn't known she was capable of doing that—and light spilled from it. Still, there were corners with shadow, nooks where some hideous, ghoulish in-bred cannibal zombie creature might be able to hide, at least under the laws of time and space that governed horror movies. Mila's fingers refused to relinquish Trip's.

            He took pity on her. After all, it wouldn't do to push too far—he needed room to swoop in gallantly and save the day. Courageously Trip stepped into the bathroom, sighted all the corners, opened the shower stall, even glanced up at the ceiling. Mila stayed back, without relaxing her hold on him. "Certified monster-free," he finally announced, straight-faced.

            "Um... What about the closet?" Mila suggested, uneasily. The door slid open at her command and Trip marched valiantly towards it, pushing her clothes away from both sides and reaching all the way to the back to make sure it was clear. Idly he wondered if he'd ever get to see her wear the sapphire blue dress that hung discreetly to one side.

            "Looks safe to me," he decided. "I'd better check under the bed, though."

            "Oh, don't be foolish," Mila told him loftily.

            "'Foolish'?" Trip repeated, his ire mostly feigned. "You're the one who thinks there might be monsters in the bathroom or the closet, but _I'm_ foolish 'cause I suggest lookin' under the bed?"

            "The bed is solid to the floor," she pointed out sharply. "Nothing can be under it." Trip rolled his eyes. "But you could look under the desk," she added tentatively.

            With a flourish Trip pulled the desk chair away and crouched down to thoroughly examine the dark space beneath the desktop. Mila dropped beside him. "I think it's okay," he judged, turning back towards her. She was closer than he had anticipated and he gave her a little smile. "Satisfied?"

            She didn't exactly smile, but her expression became speculative. "Hardly," she replied. Trip's eyes widened just a little but Mila stood, dragging him back up, before he could respond.

            They stood in the middle of her cabin, hands still entwined, oddly awkward yet comfortable at the same time. "I guess I better go," he finally said, unwillingly.

            "Yes, I guess you'd better," she agreed.

            They continued to stand there, occasionally glancing at each other. She was playing with his fingers; she'd said before how rough they were to her, with all the calluses and cuts from a near lifetime of taking things apart and putting them back together. Venkii women rarely needed tools to make their repairs and her hands were soft and smooth.

            "Yeah," Trip sighed, and slowly moved towards the door. Mila followed. He opened it and turned on the threshold, freed hands on the doorframe. They felt oddly cold without the warmth and pressure of hers. "Glad you came to Movie Night tonight," he told her, feeling a little stupid. "Hope you don't get nightmares or anything."

            She was standing quite close to him. "And what should I do, if I get nightmares?" she asked in a low voice. She leaned an inch or two up, and he leaned an inch or two down, and their lips met in the middle. It was gentle, sweet almost, hesitantly exploratory—until her lips parted and they revved up to exploration on the level of the warp three engine. Trip pulled back much, _much_ sooner than he really wanted to.

            "I better go now," he said again, around the grin plastered on his face.

            "Do you have to?" Mila asked leadingly.

            "Yeah, I think I'd better," Trip assured her. His tone clearly said he wished it were otherwise. But he didn't want to ruin anything by rushing it.

            "Alright," she shrugged, and G-d, he loved the dismissive note in her voice and the way she turned her back on him, giving him one of his favorite views. She glanced back over her shoulder with a smile. "I'll see you tomorrow."

            "Yeah. See you." And with that he pried himself away.

 

            They both regarded the silver box at the junction of numerous conduits and cables, once hidden by the wall panel that now leaned nearby. A crewmember exited the Mess Hall a few meters away but paid them no mind; just two more engineering staffers doing some kind of maintenance.

            "So it just fused?" Mila's voice indicated her skepticism.

            "Well, there was a power surge first," Trip pointed out, purposely obtuse. "That's what made it fuse."

            She gave him a quick look of exasperation and Trip fought to keep his face serious, and innocent. "Any ideas what _caused_ the power surge, Chief Engineer?" she shot back.

            "Well, could be a lotta things," he mused. "Good thing I got my best diagnostician workin' on, huh?" He grinned and slapped her companionably on the back.

            Mila rolled her eyes and reached decisively into the opening, placing her hand flat on the box. Trip couldn't help jerking a little as she did so; with anyone else he would have caught their hand before they'd gotten within ten centimeters of the junction and asked what the h—l they thought they were doing, touching the relay without rerouting the power flow first. But the high-energy current didn't bother Mila—in fact she kind of enjoyed it, so she said.

            "Well?" Trip prodded after a moment.

            "Subgroup A was fused around 2115 hours, last night," Mila reported. "The last subgroup fused around 2246 hours. The others were damaged at irregular intervals in between."

            "Hmmm." Trip nodded as though this were very telling information and glanced at his data pad. "Yep, that confirms what Ramirez told me this morning. Said she'd run all the standard diagnostics and didn't see any evidence of a power surge origin."

            "Well _obviously_ with a problem of this nature," Mila informed him disdainfully, "you're not going to find the answer with _standard_ diagnostics."

            "Mmmm, yeah, you're probably right," he conceded easily. "2100 and 2300 hours... Say, what were you doin' between 2100 and 2300 hours last night?" Trip added casually.

            Mila looked at him as if his irrelevant question were a mild plague that just had to be borne, then thought back. "I was watching the movie," she reminded him. "So were you, in fact."

            "Oh, that's right," Trip agreed, as though he had suddenly remembered. He looked around. "That was in the Mess Hall, wasn't it? Which is just down there."

            "Yes, of course the—" Mila stopped and narrowed her eyes at him. "What are you implying?"

            "Oh, just that—between 2100 and 2300, you were watchin' a scary movie a few meters down the hall," Trip began, smirk breaking free, "and these couplings just _happened_ to fuse around the same time." Mila's look was a definite glare now. "Say, what if we _timed_ when all the big scary scenes were in the movie, and compared them to when the couplings were fused? Maybe there'd be some kind of... _correlation_."

            "I don't know why this amuses you so," Mila sniffed a few moments later. She was already melting and reforming the wires of the couplings.

            Trip just grinned. "I couldn't even explain." Normally a fused coupling would have meant the whole relay had to be thrown out and replaced; nobody would bother trying to carve the wires back out of the solid mass of metal they'd become, unless they were a masochist with no hobbies. Or a starship in deep space running low on repair parts. Fortunately, Mila had a special talent for this kind of thing; the hand scanner Trip pointed at the relay projected she'd be done within fifteen minutes. "But you fry 'em all you want, darlin', long as you stick around to fix 'em."


End file.
